Every time you mention the father, she turns into marble. She became aware of the modelling of his ear, of the muscles of his neck and the textures of the hair that came off his brow, the soft minute curve of eyelid that she could just see beyond his brow; she perceived all these familiar objects as though they were acutely beautiful things. The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple. ” She looked at him quizzically. Both started. ” He leaned to kiss her 131 and she returned his kiss, which she drew out, savored, and tried to memorize. "What's the matter?" he cried.
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